


Vines and Thorns Around My Heart

by syrensxng (shootngstxr)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Dad Eret, Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Eret-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Family Dynamics, Floris | Fundy Has Daddy Issues, Floris | Fundy Needs A Hug, Fox Hybrid Floris | Fundy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Alexis | Quackity, Inhuman Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Floris | Fundy, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, ghost eret au!!! just with a lot of build-up, no beta we die like schlatt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootngstxr/pseuds/syrensxng
Summary: Techno grunted. “So what? I don’t see how having your little puppet grab supplies for you would involve us in any way.”“Oh, no, it does.” Dream’s tone shifted suddenly, sharp and edged. And from the way everyone grabbed at their shields, they all noticed. He took a step forward. “See, I didn’t ask Eret to get anything for me. They weren’t even supposed to be in this war! But, well, they just had to fuck that right up.”Niki couldn’t take anymore. “What did you do?” she asked, voice trembling, even as Dream’s influence gripped at her heart and stole her breath. How unfair that a being so powerful would use his abilities to hurt others.And Dream just stood there, like he was above it all. God, how she hated him for that. “Historically,” he said, head turned to look right at her, “traitor kings have always been dealt with in a particularly… gruesome fashion. I don’t know why Eret thought they’d get any different.” And he held out his hand and conjured something from his inventory. The shape shifted, like liquid, for a moment before settling. A golden crown. The jewels of it glimmered in the lantern light. He tossed it onto the floor and it rolled down the stairs, coming to a stop at Niki’s feet.
Relationships: Eret & Floris | Fundy, Eret & Niki | Nihachu, Eret & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Niki | Nihachu, Niki | Nihachu & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 117
Kudos: 519





	1. Chapter 1

Something was wrong. ‘Good men are always restless before war.’ Niki had read that somewhere, in one of the many books on war strategy Technoblade had made pore over in preparation for the war. That quote had always stuck with her, as a reassurance in times of danger. A grounding mantra, if you will. That her hesitation before fighting was a sign of her sticking to her values, even if others didn’t. Even if, sometimes, it felt like she was the only one who did. 

But this felt different. There was still that terror of what was to come; a rigid tension in her back that couldn’t seem to leave, sand in her throat that left it dry and clawing, but something else too. It was gnawing and insistent, somehow impossible to chase away. 

A wind blew by and Niki pulled her coat tighter against her shoulders, shivering. She met Fundy’s eyes. He was leaning against a nearby chest, glancing across the horizon like he was trying to be discreet about it. She pretended not to know who he was waiting for as he gave her a weary smile. 

This wasn’t the time to be worrying about bad feelings, she decided. There was far too much at stake to be overwhelmed by little superstitions. And yet, as she and Fundy stood to greet their leader and second-in-command, Niki still couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. 

She wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it anyway. 

There was so little time. So little time and still so much left to do. 

Eret fumbled with the items in their arms, very nearly dropping a strength potion in the process. They clenched their jaw and walked faster through the castle halls. By now, Schlatt and the others should be meeting up near the tower meaning they had to hurry if they wanted to find the rebellion and deliver the supplies in time. Eret cursed themself for not having left sooner. 

A voice stopped them in their tracks. “I have to say, Eret. I’m a little disappointed.” Even without an expression, Dream had always cut an intimidating figure. That had never been more true than now. The netherite axe slung over his shoulder gleamed with the runes of heavy enchantments, as did all of the armor he wore. Newly crafted, too, by the look of it. Golden apples hung on his belt, and there was a crossbow latched onto his arm in lieu of a shield. 

Eret froze. They had known full well that there was only one way their betrayal to the kingdom could have possibly gone. And yet despite all their preparation for this, all their courage, somehow they still weren’t ready for it. This one moment of truth. It hung above them, suspended, like water poised to drop from a faucet. And then Eret took a breath, and it fell. “How so?” 

Dream tilted his head. “Well, I thought we understood each other.” Dream paused, and Eret was sure that if he had a mouth he would be frowning. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through together.” _Gunpowder. Blackstone. Swords against throats._ “I thought, ‘here’s someone who knows what they’re about. Who really understands the game.’” Dream paced on the red carpet of the castle, looking to its arching ceilings and tapestries. He stopped suddenly. “And yet, here we are.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” The words came out shaky, unsteady, and even Eret knew how transparent the lie was. They swallowed. 

The ferocity at which Dream turned caught Eret off guard completely. **“Don’t** take me for a fool, Eret. Nothing happens in this kingdom without me knowing about it.” A strange sort of energy had started to swirl as Dream spoke. It was cloying, uncomfortable. Thick. Eret found their throat suddenly dry. “I’ve been watching you talk to Niki and Fundy for months! _Seen_ you collecting your gold, sneaking off that replica Camarvan to make potions. Don’t **think** I don’t know about that.”

The king took a step back as Dream stalked towards them. “O-Okay. I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have gone behind your back,” they reasoned. “But-”

“And you know what really gets me?” He let out a bark of laughter. It echoed across the castle, biting and sharp. “You don’t even have any real power! You don’t, do you, you just sit here alone in this castle and act like you have a say. You **don’t.”** In one swift motion Dream pushed Eret onto the wooden floor. They looked up to see Dream standing over them, the gold in the ceiling framing his head. **“I** say what goes around here. Your status only ever came from me. Remember that.” He turned away again, axe glowing in the sunlight.

Eret stood shakily. “What are you planning to do with me, then? Exile me, like Tommy and Wilbur? Keep me as a hostage?” A prisoner in their own castle. Wouldn’t that be funny. 

“A _hostage?_ No, no, no, I don’t think so. Half of them hate your guts, Eret, you have to know that by now. They were never going to forgive you for the control room.” Dream spoke in a sickly sweet tone, voice dripping with fake kindness. And yet, Eret couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. No matter what they seemed to do, Tommy and Wilbur never seemed to want their help. They brushed them off, spat their name, called them a traitor. Maybe they _were_ doomed to never be forgiven after all. Forever known as a villain, a coward. Unredeemed. “And because you were working with the rebellion, I’m afraid I can't just let you go.” Dream leaned close until they were right beside Eret’s ear. “See, Schlatt’s already bought my allegiance. We can’t have you running off to join the fight.” 

He took a step back, and suddenly George and Sapnap were there. Eret turned, red cloak making a sweeping arc behind them. _Shit._ “Now, wait. H-Hold on, Dream, let’s talk about this. Surely we can come to an agreement here, right, gentlemen?” Their voice cracked, something like a sob rising up in their throat. 

“Well, that depends. What are you willing to do to win back my trust?” With a single wave of Dream’s hand George and Sapnap backed away, watching from behind. “Are you willing to put on an encore performance for me? They say history always repeats itself, you know. And I need a little _help.”_

For a moment, Eret considered it. If they didn’t take this deal, and Dream chose instead to spill their blood no one would find out for hours. God, they didn’t want to die. Not here, in their own castle, alone. Eret was always so alone. But betraying everyone, again? They would never be forgiven for that, not by Niki, not by Fundy, not by anyone. Forever abandoned. And that scared them so much more than Dream ever could. “No. Not that.” And Eret knew they had signed their death warrant with those three words.

Dream sighed. “Then there’s nothing more to say.” He reached out to grip Eret’s jaw, harshly. They winced at the pain. “It’s over, Eret. Symbolic or not, that crown’s coming off your head. This is the end of your reign.” 

Eret bowed their head as George and Sapnap seized him again.

They would scream, and scream, there in the castle on the hill unheard by anyone who would help. Their life taken by an axe before the war had even started. And when that was over, three people would leave, covered by blood and unphased completely. 

For hours, no one would mourn. No one even knew to. 


	2. Chapter 2

There was half an hour until the war started, and Eret was nowhere to be seen. 

The anxiety that coursed through Niki's veins like electricity had increased tenfold in the past hour, bringing with it a sickening wave of nausea that never seemed to pass. By now she had checked her communicator more times than she could count, hoping every time that her eyes had simply skipped over a message, one of many on the small device. But the log remained unchanged, Eret’s messages shoved to the bottom of her inbox.

Niki opened it again. The last one they’d sent to her was from nearly 3 hours ago, two words glowing white on the interface.

_ The_Eret whispers to you: stay safe  _

She hadn't responded.

Niki shut the communicator with a click and continued pacing the stone floors of the ravine. Every so often she glanced at the carved-out staircase that served as the entrance to their base, something the others would have found suspicious if they weren’t so busy preparing their own gear. 

So too would they have noticed the lost expression on her face as she wrung her gloved hands, or the way her brows were permanently drawn together in worry. But as it was she wasn't the only one lost in thought, as the rest of them loaded crossbows and pocketed ender pearls. They were preparing for war, and Niki was pacing.

A low whine startled her. Mushroom, the pet fox Wilbur had brought to the base as a gift, was watching from just near the furnaces. Its snout moved back and forth as she walked, blinking as she came to a stop slowly. Niki sighed and set the communicator down beside it. 

She was letting herself get too worked up and she knew it. Sitting here worrying about Eret wasn't accomplishing anything, but it was impossible to stop thinking about their radio silence entirely. Niki had never fought a war. For all her words, calling out Schlatt during his presidency and confronting Wilbur, the weight of a sword in her hand still felt unfamiliar. Wrong on a personal level. 

But the storm was coming whether she wanted to or not, and Niki felt like she was going to drown in it. 

Mushroom let out a small squeak as she ran a hand through its fur absentmindedly, and Niki felt a smile twitch at her lips. She buried her face in its side and ignored the tears that threatened to fall as she blinked.

The communicator sounded. What a cheery sound, she had always thought, for something that could be so urgent. Niki pulled back from the fox reluctantly. For a moment she let herself hope that the message was from Eret, finally telling her they were on their way. 

Instead it was Fundy, asking to meet her by the potato farm. She caught a glimpse of his orange fur out of the corner of her eye and stood. 

Only Technoblade noticed her leaving the group, from where he was sharpening his sword at the back of the ravine. He looked up. And then, humming thoughtfully, he continued to sharpen his sword.

Streams of water trickled among the crops as Niki entered the room Techno used for his farm. The sound of it was steady and calming, completely out of place with the tense atmosphere of the situation. 

Fundy was leaning by the entrance. His tail brushing nervously against the stone wall and he grabbed it, frowning. "Where is Eret, Niki?" She’d never seen him look so tired. The fur on his face was unkempt, bristling and unbrushed throughout. Dark circles haunted the space below his eyes in half-moons, making him look older beyond his years. When had the war changed them both so deeply? "They were supposed to be here 10 minutes ago,  _ where are they?" _

"I don't know,” Niki answered honestly.“I gave them clear instructions on how to get here and where we'd be, I swear.” There wasn’t any reason for them not to be here. 

And then Fundy asked the question on both of their minds. “Do you think Schlatt got to them first? Or Dream?” His voice was quiet. Tight and constricted as if speaking any louder would  _ hurt _ . And when Niki looked up she found Fundy was staring at the floor, eyes unfocused.

She shook her head. “Dream wouldn’t go after Eret. He made a deal with Schlatt by himself, on his own terms. Not on the behalf of the kingdom.” With every passing word it felt like Niki was trying to convince herself instead. Desperately grasping at possibilities that seemed to slip through her hands like water. Suddenly the flowing streams weren’t so calming. 

“So they left, then. Just  _ abandoned _ us.” Fundy’s voice cracked. God, he sounded so pained, so betrayed. Niki needed to have a talk with Wilbur one of these days, for what he’d done to his son. To all of them. 

“No. No, Fundy, I-” 

A commotion from outside interrupted her. Through the stone wall Niki could distinctly hear Tommy shouting, and Tubbo’s quieter voice trying to calm him down. She and Fundy both paused. “What’s going on out there?” he asked. 

“I don’t know…” 

Jack Manifold was the first person Niki saw upon leaving the farm room. He was rushing past them, juggling a number of potions that cast colored reflections on his 3D glasses. 

She only just managed to catch him. “Jack? What’s happening, where are you going?” 

“Tommy said that Sam’s tripwire detected something in the forest,” he explained. And oh God, the way Niki’s heart sank at those words. “I don’t know all the details, it could just be some stray animal, but Wilbur wants us to prepare just in case. Look, I need to get these out, just find the others, okay? Stay safe.” Jack looked at her earnestly and offered what he probably thought was a reassuring smile. 

Niki returned it. “You too.” 

And then, as he disappeared into the crowd, someone entered the ravine. Through the wooden beams Niki could only just make out a silhouette as she and Fundy hurried to join everyone. 

Not bright green, but  _ blue. _ Dark blue striped with white.

Quackity stood at the entrance, dark hair windswept and disheveled from under his beanie. His golden wings were spread out behind him in a clear arc against the packed dirt. The feathers were ruffled, a clear sign that he’d been flying.

Tubbo was the one to speak up. “Big Q? What is it?”    
“It’s Dream,” Quackity said, still out of breath. He fixed them all with a steady look. “He’s headed this way. He knows where the base is.”

That kicked everyone back into action. There was shouting again as everyone grabbed their shields and items. Niki herself saw Techno hoist his sword over his shoulder. 

Through it all Tommy’s voice rose up.  _ “Who the  _ **_hell_ ** _ does that green bastard think he is, showing up around here?!”  _ And despite everything Niki felt relieved. At the indignant, obnoxiously loud shouting she’d once found so annoying. Because even before the biggest war to ever happen on this server this 16-year-old teenager was still yelling his lungs out like he could win the entire thing single-handedly. That unearned childish confidence had never faded, never even quieted down. Some things never changed. _ “I swear to God, if I see his smug  _ **_fucking-”_ **

“Tommy, quiet down,” Wilbur said. An order, not a suggestion. And sure enough, his younger brother shut right up. He’d always been the only one who could do that. “You get to the back with everyone else.  _ Now.” _

“But-”

“No buts.” Wilbur leaned down and placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. And just for a moment, Niki could see the image of the man he used to be. The one who’d created L’Manburg for peace, for freedom. Who’d given everyone refuge behind its walls, baked pies with Niki in her bakery, sewed their first flag with Tubbo in the light of the garden. “If this goes south I need you to lead them through the tunnels to L’Manburg. Tommy, you’re my  _ second-in-command,  _ and if I don’t make it out of this ravine you’re going to lead the charge. Do I make myself clear?” 

Tommy swallowed nervously but nodded. “...yeah. Yeah, you do.” 

“Good lad,” Wilbur clapped him on the back. But when he turned away Tommy’s face fell, the corners of his mouth drawn downwards. And it wasn’t worry on his face, but fear. Blatant and unhidden. Wilbur gestured to his twin brother as he walked to the staircase and passed Quackity. “Techno, you’re with me. And keep your blade ready.” 

Techno gave him a mock salute. “Yessir,” he drawled.

They didn’t make it five steps up the stairs. Niki never saw the ender pearl being thrown, but it must have been at some point, because suddenly Dream was standing in front of them. A trail of purple smoke followed.

Technoblade reacted instantly, putting his shield in front of Wilbur before anything else could happen. The younger of them narrowed his eyes. “Dream. This isn’t where we agreed to meet.” 

Dream let out a chuckle that echoed and seemed to come from all directions. That sound had always been so unsettling to Niki, so very intrusive. “Wilbur, what a surprise!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms. “And here I thought this was just another regular old ravine.” 

“Why are you here?” 

Their enemy raised his arms in surrender.  _ “Relax, _ I didn’t come here to fight. I don’t even have my axe out, see?” And he didn’t. The weapon had remained sheathed on his back, though they could all see that it was covered in dried blood. Dream tilted his head forwards. “I just came here to talk.” 

From where he was, Techno snorted. “Yeah, you’ve been doing an awful lot of that.” At Wilbur’s look he had stepped backwards, putting down the shield in favor of pointing a crossbow at Dream. A  _ firework _ crossbow. No one missed the way Tubbo had grabbed onto Tommy’s arm at the sight, and neither had Dream.

“Careful where you point that thing, Techno, I hear you have a habit of getting trigger happy under pressure.” 

If there was one thing Technoblade never stood for, it was being disrespected. He hoisted the crossbow up. “I won’t  _ need _ pressure if you keep at it.” There was a dangerous rumbling present in his voice, the one that made Niki very glad that he was on their side.

**“Blade.”** Wilbur’s tone was sharp and clipped. Reprimanding. “Say your piece, Dream. We don’t have all day.” 

The pleased tone in Dream’s voice was absolutely sickening.  _ “Gladly. _ I paid a little visit to the castle, oh, about an hour ago? Just to check up on things,” he said, moving his head as if to look everyone in the eyes. And perhaps Niki was paranoid, but she could have sworn he lingered on her and Fundy for just a moment longer. It was hard to tell when Dream didn’t have a face at all. “And wouldn’t you know it, Eret was busy! Running around with all these potions and everything.” No, surely not. Out of the corner of her eye Niki saw Fundy’s ears flatten against his head.

Techno grunted. “So what? I don’t see how having your little puppet grab supplies for you would involve us in any way.” 

“Oh, no, it  **does.”** Dream’s tone shifted suddenly, sharp and edged. And from the way everyone grabbed at their shields, they all noticed. He took a step forward. “See, I didn’t  _ ask _ Eret to get anything for me. They weren’t even supposed to be in this war! But, well, they just had to  **fuck that right up.”**

Niki couldn’t take anymore.  _ “What did you do?” _ she asked, voice trembling, even as Dream’s influence gripped at her heart and stole her breath. How unfair that a being so powerful would use his abilities to hurt others. 

And Dream just stood there, like he was above it all. God, how she hated him for that. “Historically,” he said, head turned to look right at her, “traitor kings have always been dealt with in a particularly…  _ gruesome _ fashion. I don’t know why Eret thought they’d get any different.” And he held out his hand and conjured something from his inventory. The shape shifted, like liquid, for a moment before settling. A golden crown. The jewels of it glimmered in the lantern light. He tossed it onto the floor and it rolled down the stairs, coming to a stop at Niki’s feet. She wondered if that was on purpose, or if he could see the way her breath hitched at the sight. 

It was. He did. 

Dream turned around, pausing for a moment to look at them once more over his shoulder. “See you all soon.” 

Then he climbed the stairs back up, slowly, deliberately, and just like that he was gone. Niki heard this time the sound of an ender pearl being thrown, muffled by cobblestone and dirt. She watched for a moment longer just in case, not daring to turn away until the purple smoke of it poured in. Only then did she reach down and pluck the crown from the floor. 

It was covered in dried blood. That was the splash of color she had mistaken for jewels. Eret’s crown had never had those, only Techno’s.

Eret’s crown had never had jewels.

A tear fell onto it and Niki wiped it away gingerly. Some of the blood came away with it, smeared onto the gold. Another tear fell. And then another, and another. Until it seemed like there were enough there to wipe the crown clean entirely. But when she wiped her thumb over it again, there weren’t. And there never would be.

Had the ravine always been so cold? 

Distantly, she heard Fundy speak up in the silence. “W-Wait. The thing Dream was talking about. Techno, what did he mean by that?” His voice was full of desperation, clinging to that last little bit of hope. Niki knew it was useless.

The hybrid shifted his weight uncomfortably. “In the older kingdoms, when revolutions happened, sometimes people would execute the royals. Beheadings especially.” Niki tried and failed to stifle a gasp into her glove. “If Eret doesn’t show up, I think we need to check the castle for ourselves.” As Techno passed her, he paused to squeeze Niki’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. That was how she knew he was being genuine. Technoblade never said sorry unless he meant it. 

She fled deeper into the ravine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M POPPING OFF, I'M POPPING OFF!!! These children have so much trauma, lmao. I definitely did not intend for this chapter to be 2.5k, but Pogtopia Wilbur is just too fun to write. Many thoughts, head full. I actually wrote a version of this including a longer dialogue with Niki, but he said some admittedly very nasty things in it so I ultimately scrapped it. 
> 
> Noor, the original creator of the AU, and I have been talking plenty about this fic. They have intentions to continue working with the idea of Ghost Eret but we'll be collaborating on the AU, so this will be a second canon of sorts along with their comic series. 
> 
> I always have writing playlists for my major projects, here's the one for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aeZWeNUqhlSvB3EpAHPz1  
> Big sad foresty vibes. If anyone wants to hit me up to talk about this (or anything MCYT related, really) my tumblr is @420technoblazeit. 
> 
> Glad to hear you guys are enjoying this fic! Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated, tysm for all the support you've given so far <3
> 
> Edit: I had to fix some typos :(


	3. Chapter 3

Niki was well aware that hiding in the tunnels did little to hide the sound of her crying. Once, Tubbo and Quackity had cheered a little too loudly when she’d beat Tommy in a duel and Techno had scolded them for it. He hadn’t joined the revolution to babysit a bunch of kids who wouldn’t stop screaming their heads off, he’d said. Tommy had been very pleased about that until Techno hit him on the head with his own practice sword. Turns out not even being his little brother could save you from the Blade’s wrath.

Point was, you could hear everything in this place. And that went both ways.

She could hear the others talking in the main area of the ravine. Dream hadn’t come back from what she could tell; there was no sound of clashing swords or whizzing arrows. But there was arguing. If Niki listened closely she could hear Wilbur raising his voice, clearly upset. He yelled so much these days. And the things he said sometimes, biting remarks as if he didn’t care about anyone he was talking to… Well, Niki didn’t like to argue with him these days. So she stayed.

Even though being here alone felt like drowning all over again. Made her feel weak, helpless. Reminded her, painfully, that she had failed her best friend and let them die alone in their own castle. The home they were supposed to share together after the war.

Niki curled in on herself and wept.

In the end it was Tubbo who came to her, when the sounds outside had eventually died down. He sat down on the wooden planks of the pathway and scooched over. She didn’t meet his eyes. There was silence now, settling all around them like a blanket. Niki wasn’t sure when everyone had stopped talking, or where they had gone. 

Jesus, she felt so tired. The tears on her cheeks had long dried but her eyes still felt raw with them, and her skin stretched with it. 

Tubbo opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Look, Niki. I…” The boy reached out a hand, hesitantly, and wrapped his arm around her. He seemed at a loss for words. Niki didn’t blame him for that, not really. He was just a kid. A lot of them were. “I’m sorry,” he finally settled on. 

Vaguely, she realized she was crying again. She brought up an arm and wiped the tears away with a sleeve. 

“I, uh… Fundy told me what you were doing. Meeting with Eret and all that. He told all of us,” Tubbo said quietly. Slowly, he let himself rest against her shoulder and his arm tightened around her. It still felt shaky. “About their plans to fight in the war with us. How they’d been collecting supplies to help. I wish we’d known.” The last statement was resigned, wishful. He wasn’t blaming them for not telling him, Niki realized. Just sad that they hadn’t trusted him with the information. That they hadn’t trusted any of them. Maybe they should’ve. Maybe then Eret wouldn’t have had to face Dream alone. Maybe, maybe.

Maybe. But Niki knew the real reason why he was here. “Everyone else left already, right?” Her own voice sounded croaky and unused to her own ears. She wasn’t even sure how long it had been since Dream had showed up. “It’s time.” There was still a war to fight, Niki knew that. It wasn’t going to stop just because her best friend had been brutally murdered. How cruel.

Tubbo hesitated before nodding. “You don’t- We can stay here a little longer if you want, okay? Fundy’s still here too, he didn’t leave.” He hadn’t even had the heart to lie to her. Tubbo really was too sweet a kid to be fighting in this war. Niki finally looked up, and saw his dark eyes deep with sympathy. He swallowed again. “Look, I know it seems really, _really_ hopeless right now. Like everything’s gone to shit, and- and maybe it has!” Tubbo exclaimed. He didn’t deserve to be here, Niki thought for the hundredth time that day. Not in the middle of all this violence. He was too young. “But.. we still don’t know if Eret’s really gone, you know? I mean, I wouldn’t put it past Dream to just be playing mind games with all of us.”   
Niki let out a bitter, watery chuckle. It fell flat. She brushed the hair from her face absentmindedly. “Are you saying that you think Technoblade’s wrong?” It seemed so against the very idea of him to make a mistake, to misjudge their enemy. 

“Maybe! The Blade doesn’t know everything,” Tubbo sniffed, rolling his eyes. “Last time I checked, he wasn’t a _mind-reader._ Could you imagine? I’m pretty sure he’d never let us forget it.” And despite everything Niki felt an actual, genuine laugh bubble up. Somehow Tubbo still knew just what to say to make her feel better. A little bit of that electric tension fizzled out. “All I’m saying is we shouldn’t lose hope, Niki,” he continued. Tubbo seemed to sober up suddenly, voice becoming even. Almost like Wilbur’s had been, back when everything was still good. “Not right now, not when there’s so much at stake. We _can’t.”_

If they didn’t have hope, what else did they have? Niki found herself looking through the cracks in the stone wall in front of her, the natural grooves and split of it. It was steadying, unmoving. 

“Yeah. Okay,” she nodded. She took a deep breath, and then stood back up on shaky legs. The mascara on her face wiped away on her jacket sleeve. “You’re right. Nothing’s certain here, not yet.” How strange that they had to fight even for that. For a future. “And… And even if Eret really is gone, if Dream really killed them,” Niki didn’t miss the flash of pity on the boy’s face. Or was that hurt? Guilt? “They took a chance on this rebellion. All that time they spent, risking everything to prepare for this war. That has to mean something. I _need_ it to mean something.” Her voice cracked suddenly, and Niki cleared her throat. Eret’s bloody crown still hung heavy in her hand. Cold seeped through the holes of the glove. 

Tubbo placed a hand on her shoulder. “It will,” he promised. And a little bit of weight lifted from her shoulders. “Are you ready to go?”

And Niki nearly said yes, but something lingered in the back of her mind. Shouts from just minutes before echoed there, unwelcome. “I heard all of you talking earlier, in the main area,” she said. The founding members had never really liked Eret. She had heard… rumors of what had happened, but none of them talked about it. Eret especially. “Wilbur doesn’t think they’re dead, does he?” she asked.

“Wilbur’s not in the best headspace right now. I don’t think he has been for a long time, based on what Tommy’s told me. I mean, you remember the…'' he trailed off, hand going to his neck, where the scars were. Dark and lined just peeking out of his shirt collar. Niki didn’t bring it up. “Anyway, that’s why we’re splitting off. He wants us to regroup at Techno’s bunker, where the armory is. You and, uh, Fundy don’t have to do anything, he already sent me the coordinates. We just have to make sure we double back. And keep an ender pearl in one hand at all times, remember that. If you run into trouble, you’re supposed to set off a firework.”

Something felt off about all this. Niki turned and cut off Tubbo’s rambling before he could say any more. “And everyone just agreed to this plan? You all thought Eret might fake their own death just to, what, ambush us in the tunnels?” 

“ _I_ don’t think so!” Tubbo exclaimed. “But Wilbur and Tommy, they’re not so easily convinced. Look, I know you and Eret are close. I know they’re trying to make up for it. The past month or two, they’ve been coming around with these little pink balls of wool with messages written on them. It’s cute! I don’t think I ever told them that,” he said, quieter. This time when the look flashed over his face Niki was sure that it was regret. His eyes flickered to the side. “But what they did, none of us can forget that.”

“But it’s been months! So much has changed since then. Don’t you think Eret deserves another chance?”  
He stopped fiddling with the shirt sleeves under his armour. “That’s not what I meant. And yeah, it might have been months ago. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like that,” Tubbo said. He looked around, as if he was afraid someone would hear what he was saying. When he spoke again it was hushed and slow. “Sometimes, I can still feel Sapnap’s netherite axe at my neck and I can’t _breathe._ And- And even now, Tommy still wakes up screaming his throat raw. I hear it at night when Wilbur runs down to check on him. But no one ever knows because he just walks around the next day pretending it didn’t happen.” Niki often forgot about Tubbo and Tommy’s experiences in the war, the one for L’Manburg’s independence. They acted like kids most of the time. That was something she was grateful for, that they still had enough innocence in them to run around, tease each other, play pranks despite everyone else’s protests. But in this moment, she didn’t see a kid. She saw a soldier. Just like Wilbur had, at the start of all this. “I wish I could forget what happened, but I _can’t,_ Niki. I don’t think any of us can,” he finished.

And she didn’t have the heart to say anything against him. “I understand. Just… let me do something before we join the others.” 

They kept the enderchest off to the side, away from the largest vein of the ravine. It was near the sleeping quarters, where Niki shared a room with Fundy. They’d spent many a night there, whispering about plans for after the war. Eret had plenty of space in their castle, entire wings cleared out for both of them. Fundy had been excited for the space, though he’d promised to sleep in the same hall as Niki did. She was going to hold him to that.

Now, she knelt before the enderchest and opened it. There wasn’t much in there, some berries for her fox, a music disc she was fond of listening to, spare baking supplies. And now, a crown. Niki put it inside carefully, as if it might break. There would be time to clean it later, she knew, when everything was done. She _would_ clean it.

And then she walked with Tubbo to the exit. 

True to his word, Fundy was waiting for them there beside the furnaces. His hat was pulled over his head and from where Niki was, she couldn’t see his expression. His ears perked up at their approach.

“You ready?” Tubbo asked.

“Of course.” He grinned, his canines glinting in the dark. It was unsettling. “We have a war to win.” A boy, born in war and raised a soldier. Did Fundy himself believe he could be more than all of that? Eret did, or had. But with every step that he took, faked confidence in every stride, she knew that they hadn’t told him. 

Niki watches Schlatt fall, undone by his own hand, and everyone who ever sided with him walks away from his dead body. The source of all that misery and pain, gone in an instant. She feels nothing.

Fundy does, perhaps, but that is a conversation for another time. When no one is looking he slips Schlatt’s sword into his coat pocket, a memory of something that could have been. He doesn’t know yet if he will keep the thing or destroy it.

And for just a moment, it seems like everything will be alright. Wilbur takes the podium, then Tommy, and finally Tubbo. He makes his first speech still giddy with victory and promises to be better than those before him. He has to be, the more desperate part of Niki’s mind whispers. _He will be._

They laugh and cheer with the fervor of soldiers who had not expected to still be alive, but were. Yelling as loud as they could with lungs they could not believe still breathed. Niki turns to speak to her new president and sees a crossbow. Aimed at Tubbo’s throat.

This time when it goes off it isn’t with color but a single, calculated shot. All hell breaks loose afterwards, in a mad scramble to pick up arms again. There is a friend, a trusted brother screaming at them about a government he was never even part of, and monsters soar in the sky. 

Below them the ground opens up and Niki thinks this must be the Underworld. All that they love is taken the man who had once been their leader. L’Manburg loses two presidents in one day. And perhaps, _perhaps,_ all with power really are destined to fall from grace. 

When it was truly and finally over, Niki picked herself up from the crater that had been her home and walked. Her legs ached with protest. During the war she’d spent the entire time running and dodging Wither blasts, so full of adrenaline that she hadn’t felt the fatigue. It was all coming down now in one big wave of exhaustion. She yearned to lie in that crater in the ground and never move again. But this couldn’t wait. 

Along the way she found Fundy. He was sitting beside the L’Mantree, tail between his legs, humming what sounded like the national anthem. Even with his back turned, Niki could see ash and soot, his father’s namesake, strewn across his fur. She called to him.

He perked up, but not nearly as quickly as he usually did, and followed her without a word. They both knew where they were going. 

Strangely enough, Quackity was the next to follow them. He’d been wandering the streets aimlessly, kicking around stones and looking at the ground as if it would give him the answers if he stared hard enough. Niki had a feeling he felt some sense of guilt for his part in the past few months. From what Tommy had told her he hadn’t wanted any part of Schlatt’s plan after the festival, and had enough of a moral compass to know when the man had pushed things too far. Even tried to get him to back off a bit, though it didn’t do much good in the end. She knew what that felt like. When he saw them he began to trail them hesitantly, only coming near when they didn’t brush him off. 

And then with a gust of wind he took to the skies. Somehow, his wings hadn’t been injured in the fight, as he’d opted to keep them closed during the battle with the Withers. They weren’t strong or powerful like Philza’s, not by a long shot, but they still painted a beautiful picture. He was proud of them, of their usefulness in his job as a scout and messenger. And watching him soar high above, sunlight gleaming through his feathers, Niki could see why. 

Even from a mile away, dead on her feet, she could tell that something was wrong with the castle. At a distance the bright colors of the flags were nowhere to be seen, only grey stone and an odd dark _green._ Crawling up the side of it and blocking the entrance. She called up to Quackity to investigate and he flew faster, and she and Fundy broke into a run. 

What awaited her was nothing like she’d ever seen. There were green vines covering the castle, thick and barbed. They looked as if they’d been growing there for years, even decades, though she knew for certain they hadn’t been there yesterday. And the castle looked like it was suffocating. Parts of the stone brick had crumbled from the pressure and fallen off entirely, while others were split right across by enormous cracks. Worst of all was the entrance. It was there that the majority of the vines had clustered, and the most thorns laid.

“What happened?” Fundy asked, half in awe and half in horror. His snout was turned upwards, to where the flag still was. It too had been overtaken.

Beside them, Quackity landed. Niki felt the rush of wind in her hair as he touched the ground. “I don’t know. But I think we should be careful around here.” 

She nodded and took out an axe. An iron one Eret had given her just a week ago for their tree farm, in favor of the netherite sword she still had from Techno. But no matter how hard or how many times she brought it down on the vine, it never disappeared. Instead it was replaced by more of the same, the plant writhing and reaching to cover its injuries. 

“This isn’t working,” she grunted. Her arms were beginning to ache unbearably, the dull fire replaced by outright burning as she lifted them. “We need a different solution.” 

“I’ll circle around and look for an exit,” Quackity told them. He was already adjusting his sweater to free his wings again. “You guys just stay here, keep working on the vines.”

So they did. 

He didn’t return until much later, to the point where Fundy was beginning to insist that they call for backup. Niki didn’t blame him for that. She also felt uneasy near the vines. To be honest, she felt at a loss for what to do at all in this situation. So much had happened recently that she wanted nothing more than to leave it all alone. But she couldn’t. She still had a crown to give back and no rest would come to her until she did, Niki knew.

Quackity came back eventually. They saw the duck hybrid descending from above, flying on unsteady wings. “Quackity? What is it?”

“I don’t- I don’t have any materials here,” he said, ignoring Fundy’s question. Quackity kneeled to open one of the chests in front of the castle, sorting through it absently. His fingers shook. And when Niki looked to his face, she could see his bottom lip quivering. “I think we need to head back to the base. Maybe take, uh, take one of the minecarts from Sam’s place. We can drape one of the flags on top so we don’t have to see…” Quackity trailed off, far paler than Niki could ever remember seeing him. He’d gotten close, once, and the memory of fireworks lighting up his face flashed in her mind. Red, white, blue. Niki felt sick.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” She knew the answer before she even asked the question. 

Quackity’s face crumpled. That was what really scared her, out of everything in this situation. Not the high-pitched whine that came from Fundy, or the vines on the castle that definitely weren’t natural and seemed to have grown overnight. Not even the fact that her best friend’s body was lying there, alone, and had been for hours now. Cold and pale. It was the fact that Quackity, of all people, looked so distraught.

Everything came down around her. 

Quackity shifted uneasily, his feathers ruffling. “Listen, you guys don’t have to be here, okay? I can call up Ponk, or Jack maybe, to get a grave set up.” He took off his beanie and ran a hand through his hair. “I- I just… I’m sorry.” 

That was the third time she’d heard those words today. Three times, as if each one was for a life Eret had lost in that castle. Three times Dream and his friends had murdered them, without mercy or a second thought. Three times she had failed them. 

“Okay,” she whispered. Slowly, Niki reached a hand out to Fundy, expecting him to take it. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms and shook his head sadly. “I can’t. I think… I think I need to be here to bury Eret.” Fundy turned away from her, and even though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was near tears. “Niki, I can’t explain it, but it feels like this is the last thing I can do for them. I wasn’t there when they died, I didn’t fight with them. I did _jack shit_ while Dream stormed in here with his cronies and executed Eret for even daring to stand up to him!” Fundy’s voice grew louder and louder until it broke in anguish. And then it blew out, like a candle flame. His last words were quiet and hushed. “They deserved more than that. And they deserve a proper burial.” 

Niki reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’ll be at the base, then, in my room. You know where to find me.” 

She started the long walk to the ravine alone. 

It was too difficult to sleep that night, and hours later Niki would find herself curled up near the furnaces, stoking its embers. Mushroom was beside her, squeaking contentedly in the firelight as if all was right in the world. She ran a hand through its fur. 

Only then, when the dark had settled on the scarred landscape and everyone else had gone to bed, would Fundy enter. His fur was still coated in dirt and grime, now layered overtop the ash, a trail of it following him inside.

And when he slumped beside Niki in exhaustion she would lean against him in spite of it. There was warmth here, the two of them realized. Not just in the fire that burned bright in the relative darkness of the ravine. But in the shared grief of someone loved, someone treasured who was here no longer. 

They laid there in that warmth, snuggled together, long into the night. And they mourned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trauma pog, am I right chat? Haha... These chapters keep getting longer and longer, this definitely wasn't supposed to end up being 3.6k words long. A couple notes, mainly that this definitely isn't connected to the bloodvines, I just thought it would be a cool imagery thing that the feeling of being trapped Eret had in their final moments would manifest physically around their castle. So yeah, ghost shenanigans. This chapter is the last bit of build-up I have planned before Ghost Eret (or Speret) finally shows up. 
> 
> Also, as much as I love the 'no beta we die like schlatt' tag I have, considering the length of this fic I would greatly appreciate a beta. If you're interested, it'd be great if you dropped your name in the comments.
> 
> Hoped you enjoyed! As usual, thank you so much for all your support, kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forest mentioned here is the one outside of Pogtopia. Eret's been waiting there for about a week at the point that Ghostbur finds them.  
> Niki sticks around in this AU, as unlikely as it might seem with her losing two of her best friends. I like to think that Fundy mourning with her gave her some kind of companionship. They both stick around for Eret's funeral and as a result are there for Ghostbur's first appearance. After that they both spend a lot of time waiting near the castle for Eret's ghost.  
> The tune Ghostbur's humming is the L'Manburg anthem.  
> Eret continues to call Ghostbur 'Wilbur' because in their mind, they don't entirely believe that the two are separate. Whether or not they are is up for debate, but they still have empathy them as someone who also doesn't have all their memories. Eret's perception of Ghostbur is altered by their own experience as someone who still considers themself the same person as they were when they were alive.  
> Niki holding Eret 'like an anchor' parallels the previous chapter, where Niki compared her anxiety to a storm out in the sea.
> 
> As usual, thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it, kudos and comments are appreciated.

Ghostbur didn’t sleep much these days. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, of course; the dead could eat and sleep like the living did and felt the need to do so just as strongly. They felt pain, too, though he often found himself wishing that they didn’t. 

But it was… difficult. The few instances that Ghostbur  _ had _ managed to drift off, his dreams had been plagued by half-formed images of war. Shouting and explosions, a horrible feeling of something close to regret. Pained expressions on the faces of people who loved him. Or had loved him.    
He woke up every time clutching the scar on his chest. 

And eventually, he gave up on sleep. The exhaustion was horrible, sure, but it was nothing compared to those memories. They seemed to laugh, to taunt him, twinkling like stars as he tried to find even an idea of what they meant. But they were always just a little too far away to grasp. And he had become tired of reaching. 

So instead he walked. Just outside of L’Manburg there was a forest, the last untouched part of the server for miles around. Ghostbur didn’t remember visiting this place when he was alive, but it was strangely calming to him, in a way nowhere else was. If he listened closely he could hear laughter in the distance, and shouting in a far happier tone than the ones that haunted his nightmares. He didn’t dwell on it. 

The others didn’t like going here, and Ghostbur didn’t understand why. It probably had something to do with the horrible war that they never talked about near him, so he didn’t press. And besides, the silence was comforting. No one ever looked at you like they were expecting something more when you were alone. 

Seeing someone else in the forest caught him completely off guard. 

The figure was tall, noticeably so, but they were standing stock still in the grass like a statue. If Ghostbur hadn’t been looking at that spot, he would have missed them entirely. Curly brown hair crowned their head. It was much like Ghostbur’s own but softer, lighter. And perhaps it was just the ghostlike translucency of their skin or the sunlight, but it seemed to float too. Untethered. 

The clothes they were wearing seemed to fit the forest perfectly. A white blouse and a long dark green skirt that surely should’ve billowed in the wind. Should’ve, if not for the green vines wrapped around it. Ghostbur had seen those same vines on the castle outside of L’Manburg in the past week, growing untamed. Niki spent plenty of time there, bringing her axe down on them harshly though it never seemed to do any good. She  _ knew _ it never did any good, but kept at it all the same. Fundy lent her a hand sometimes.    
He felt the sudden urge to get closer.  _ “Hello?” _ Ghostbur asked. Slowly, he reached a hand out to them, frowning when they pulled away. In a quieter voice he continued,  _ “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. What are you doing here?” _

Then they turned. And with those glowing white eyes shining through dark sunglasses, he knew who they were instantly. This was Eret, the once-traitor king who’d been left behind before the war. Beheaded by Dream. A trickle of dark blood dripped from their neck.  _ “I don’t know.” _ Eret’s face twisted into an expression Ghostbur had seen in the mirror many times, one of confusion and frustration.  _ “I’m supposed to be waiting for someone, I think. And it’s important.” _ They spoke slowly. As if speaking the words would bring the memories to their mind somehow, push it past the hazy amnesia that lingered. Deep down, Ghostbur knew that it wouldn’t.  _ “I… I need to make up for something, I know that. I just can’t remember who I’m supposed to meet.” _

Now this, this Ghostbur could help with. He knew what it was like, waking up and remembering so little of your own life. He’d struggled to find out who he could trust, who he had hurt. Some days it felt like he’d hurt everyone in his life.

But that was another problem. Right now, in this moment, he could help Eret find their friend.  _ “Oh! Okay, well, what do you remember about them? I know everyone in L’Manburg.” _ He smiled helpfully.

_ “Is that where we are? L’Manburg?” _ Eret asked. They looked around anxiously, glimmers of light peeking out from behind their sunglasses. 

_ “Well, no,” _ Ghostbur said. He studied the other spirit carefully as they seemed to deflate. It was difficult coming back, he reminded himself, and it was confusing. He had to be patient.  _ “This is just outside of it I think, no one really goes here anymore.” _ It was strange to him that Eret didn’t know the borders of the country that they had helped found. Surely some part of their time there had been a happy memory, even just a fleeting moment of satisfaction. So why couldn’t they remember it?

Eret frowned.  _ “Oh.” _ A series of indiscernible emotions flickered across their face in rapid succession before it finally settled.  _ “Hey, Wilbur?” _ The name was hesitant on their lips, like they weren’t sure if it was the right one. Ghostbur ignored the uneasy feeling it gave him and decided to bring it up later. Eret was confused enough as it was.

_ “Mhm?”  _

_ “You said you knew everyone in L’Manburg, right?” _ Ghostbur nodded helpfully.  _ “Did you know me?” _

He gave Eret a once-over. There was something more than confusion in their voice now, he could see that in the way their voice shook and they were beginning to shy away from him again. It was worrying to say the least. _ “I did! We weren’t very close near the end, but… Yes, I remember you.” _ The corners of Eret’s mouth tilted upwards, just a little. And maybe it was Ghostbur’s imagination, but the vines wrapped around them seemed to shift too. They loosened. _ “Everyone there talks about you, you know. Oh, they’ll be so excited to see you!” _ Ghostbur grabbed Eret’s hand and turned to leave, but they stayed where they were. His gaze drifted downwards, to where their boots remained unmoving. Long roots had extended from the moss floor to cling around them tightly. Like clawed, gnarled hands.  _ “Eret? What’s wrong?”  _

Eret looked away.  _ “Are you sure they want to see me?”  _

_ “Why wouldn’t they?”  _ Ghostbur asked. He squeezed their shoulder, once, encouragingly.

But the other ghost kept their eyes downcast.  _ “I did something wrong, I think. Something  _ horrible _. And I never made up for it, Wilbur, I- I never-” _ Eret took their glasses off. There were tears coming down their cheeks now, bright like the light in their eyes.  _ “What if the person I was waiting for didn’t come back for a reason? What- What if I’m  _ meant _ to stay here in the forest? Alone, by myself.” _ Ghostbur stepped back as the plants swallowed Eret’s boots. They were thicker now, and full of brambles.  _ “I’m a traitor, aren’t I?” _

_ “No. You’re not. Not anymore, Eret.” _ Ghostbur could feel a sense of dread rising up in his throat. Around them the winds had begun to grow restless, ever-shifting. A glance at the other ghost confirmed that it was their doing. Their tears were flowing steady now, and at their neck the wound had opened up, gaping. He resisted the urge not to pull back at the sight.  _ “Look, maybe you did some horrible things. And- And maybe you’ll never make up for that.” _

The vines started to reach even higher. He swallowed.  _ “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try! Look, you remember Niki and Fundy, right?” _ Eret shook their head and Ghostbur’s throat tightened. _ “O-Okay. They’re your friends, Eret. They still love you. After you died, they told everyone about what you tried to do.” _ He ignored the mixed feelings his own words instilled. Fundy… wasn’t on good terms with him right now. There was no denying that, not really, though Ghostbur couldn’t figure out what exactly he’d done. Or what Alivebur had done.  _ “Maybe some people haven’t forgiven you yet, but  _ they _ have. And I think…” _ He looked Eret in the eye earnestly. The wind had died down, calm finally settling onto the forest once more. _ “What matters now is trying to make up for what you did.” _

The vines that had enveloped Eret’s lower half began to retreat.  _ “Niki,” _ they said quietly. It was barely a whisper, hushed like the falling leaves.

_ “What?” _

_ “That’s her name. The person I was waiting for. Her name was Niki.” _ Slowly, Eret’s breathing began to even out as they put their sunglasses back on.  _ “I remember her. Wilbur, you have to help me find her,” _ they said, gripping Ghostbur’s shoulder.

And who was he to deny them? Especially when there was such desperation in their voice, that pleading expression on their face.  _ “I’ll send her a message, then,” _ Ghostbur agreed. He searched Eret hesitantly, unsure if they were ready to see everyone just yet. He himself had taken a few days to come to grips with his afterlife. And then an idea struck him. _ “I have a lovely place in L’manburg, we can wait there! Is that okay with you?” _ he asked, clapping his hands together.   
To his surprise, Eret accepted the idea readily enough.  _ “Yeah. Yeah, I think it is.” _ The roots finally disappeared from their boots altogether, though a few vines remained on their blouse and skirt. Ghostbur frowned a little at the sight.  _ “Thank you.” _

Then Eret looked at him and smiled, tentatively.  _ “Lead the way.” _

And they left the clearing in the forest together, the dead roots withering away behind them. 

Eret had lied before. When they’d said they remembered who Niki was. They didn’t. Her name was familiar, sure, and it felt comforting in a way they hadn’t encountered since waking up. But when Eret searched their mind for the memory of her face, they came up blank yet again. 

They remembered screaming beside them, a flag burning, and the smell of smoke in the air. Nothing else. And that scared them more than anything. 

Had  _ they _ been the cause of all that grief? Wilbur hadn’t denied that they’d done something wrong, after all, something terrible.

And speaking of Wilbur… The other ghost was still talking as they made their way to L’Manburg, and he seemed friendly enough. But there was a strange overly-friendly quality to him that seemed to strain his voice and his smile. A quality that Eret didn’t remember in him when he’d been alive. And they had a feeling it was something more than the blissful ignorance amnesia had granted him.

_ “Psst!” _ Wilbur called in his high-pitched raspy tone. It was almost childlike, and come to think of it the ghost himself seemed to have lost some years after his death. He’d rushed ahead of the former king towards what they had thought was another grassy hill.  _ “Over here, Speret! This is the secret entrance to my little base in L’Manburg,” _ Wilbur told them, wiggling his fingers.

Carefully, Eret ducked underneath the vines covering the entrance.  _ “Is this… a sewer system?” _ they asked. 

_ “It is! It’s all clean, don’t worry, we don’t have plumbing in L’Manburg. At least, not yet.” _ He cast a backwards glance at Eret the torches on the tunnel casting light through his skin. Something else flickered there.  _ “We built this during the rebellion to get around quicker, Tommy, Tubbo, and I. We had to sneak around but Tubbo got caught anyway. At least that’s what Tommy says. After… everything, I thought it might be better if I lived down here from now on. New L’Manburg’s always changing and I don’t want to bother them, you know?”  _ He shrugged.

Eret didn’t have anything to say to that. They’d tried several times on the way here to coax the events of the war out of Wilbur, but he’d avoided the topic entirely. A sensitive subject, perhaps. Though Eret couldn’t figure out for the life of them why. 

Now Wilbur had taken to humming under his breath, a haunting tune that conjured images of a garden that vanished as quickly as they came. Eret wasn’t fond of that feeling. 

_ “You called me something earlier,” _ they piped up, if only to stop the humming. It had gotten to be too much too quickly, and they already felt weary from the day.  _ “Before, when we were entering the sewers.” _

Wilbur blinked, and then his face filled with recognition.  _ “Oh, you mean Speret! I hope you don’t mind,” _ he said, looking suddenly bashful.  _ “I’d actually prefer it if you would call me Ghostbur these days. I mean, I’m not Wilbur, not really. He was a bad person I think, and I’m…” _ There was a beat, and Wilbur’s form seemed to lose color.  _ “I’m not him.” _

_ “Of course, Ghostbur,” _ Eret agreed. They still didn’t know what Wilbur had done at the end of his life, especially to make him hate himself so strongly, but they resolved not to press the matter further. 

It felt wrong to do the same, ignore their past mistakes and what had happened in their life. After all, how could they make up for those things if they didn’t take responsibility for them?  _ “I’d like you to keep calling me Eret, though,” _ they said finally.  _ “Please.” _

The other ghost gave them an odd look, but shrugged.  _ “Okay. If that’s what you want.” _

For a place residing in a sewer, Wilbur’s home was unexpectedly cozy. The former president pushed the oak door at its entrance to reveal a torchlit living room with brewing stands. On the floor was a homey red carpet. It was bright and thick, vibrant red like nothing else around it and Eret couldn’t help but stare. Their own skin seemed to have been bled of all color, and they held a hand out in front of them.

_ “Come look at this,” _ Wilbur called from the other room. He poked his head out from a doorway at the back.  _ “I was just thinking, after…” _ he frowned for a second.  _ “You know, the war, Tubbo’s little archive got destroyed! And it’s such a shame, really, so I built this place to keep all our books.” _ Eret followed after him, and couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping their lips. 

All across the back there were bookshelves, made of dark oak, and a fireplace just beside them. They let themself linger at the wooden armchairs in the corner before finally coming to the books. A single ghostly hand, almost not there at all, traced the spines. 

Something… something was special about them, they could tell. Even without the memories of these titles they felt significant, the worn and wrinkled pages filled with more than just ink. 

_ “What are these, Ghostbur?” _ Eret asked eventually, when the air in the room had become too thick to breathe in. They could feel tears welling in their eyes.

Wilbur reached out a hand, and gingerly took one of them out.  _ National Anthem, _ it read. And a smile lingered on his face as he flipped through its pages.  _ “This is… Well, it’s us,” _ he said finally.  _ “Things that were, things that could be. All that was and is on our server. Our story.” _ Wilbur shut the book and put it back on the shelf. Then he turned to Eret, and his expression shifted. _ “Oh, no! I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry.” _

_ “I’m not…” _ Eret reached a hand up to their cheeks and stopped. They were wet again, dripping. So they  _ were  _ crying. Why were they crying?  _ “No, no, you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s fine,” _ they wiped a sleeve against their face. A watery chuckle bubbled up.  _ “I don’t even know why I’m crying.” _

Wilbur nodded in sympathy.  _ “Maybe seeing Niki will jog your memories,” _ he offered. 

And as if on cue, the wooden door at the entrance of the house swung open. It thudded quietly against the stone wall. “Hello? Ghostbur, are you here? I got your message.” A voice called out. It was quiet, but certain, and all at once Eret knew who was speaking. Even before they saw her face. 

_ “We’re in here, Niki, come in!” _ Wilbur put the book back on the shelf and went to greet her, a smile lighting up his face once more. His eyes seemed… glazed over. Unseeing. And then the moment passed, leaving Eret to wonder if it had simply been a trick of the light.

Niki hugged him tightly, setting a basket of pastries down on the counter. She looked tired but content, two-toned hair pulled back into buns. And there were flowers in her hair, matching her colorful sweater. “Oh, I didn’t know you had another guest. Is Phil-” And then she saw them. There was a horrible static tension in the air, like a radio being tuned. Eret wondered briefly if there was resentment in her, lingering still as they avoided their gaze. If Wilbur had been wrong the entire time, that she’d abandoned them on purpose, that the things they’d done had been deemed absolutely unforgivable. 

But then Niki’s arms were around them, tight and clinging. As if they were an anchor. Eret wasn’t sure what they thought of that, what solace they could provide. They hugged her back anyway. Somehow, in some way, it felt like second nature. An instinct they could not and would not disobey. Wet moisture gathered on their blouse and they knew that she was crying, and the tears that soaked the fabric felt heavy. 

“I’m  _ sorry,” _ she wept into their chest. At the last word her voice broke, crackling unexpectedly. “I’m so sorry. Fundy and I, we didn’t even know you’d come back, we-” A watery laugh echoed through the room. It was high pitched, filled with desperate relief. “We didn’t know if you  _ would,  _ but we never stopped waiting. At that castle, we never stopped waiting.” Niki pulled back to look at them, smiling so genuinely that Eret didn’t know what to do with themself. How could they, when she looked at them with so much love that it seemed to pour from every inch of her? It showed on their face too, they could tell by the way Niki’s face fell for a moment. “Do you… Do you not remember me?” she asked.

_ “Eret seems to remember very little,” _ Wilbur piped up helpfully from where he was at the fireplace. He tilted his head.  _ “Not like me, though. It might be the other way around, actually. They… They don’t have any memories of the original L’Manburg.” _

Niki startled, like she’d forgotten the other ghost was there entirely. She nodded. “O-Oh! That’s… That’s good.” She covered her mouth with a hand, squeaking. Red puffiness was beginning to show around her eyes, flared and irritated. “I mean, it’s not, no, I just thought for a second…” She trailed off.

_ “That you were a bad memory?” _ Eret asked. They reached out a hand to grasp Niki’s, and they both ignored the way she shivered at the cold touch. It wasn't the same as human warmth and it never would be, but they didn’t have to think about that now. She didn’t pull away.

Reluctantly, Niki nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” And with the way she turned away, she almost looked almost afraid at the admission. Yet another thing that Eret didn’t understand.

_ “Well, you weren’t,” _ they assure her, because it feels like all that they can do. Pieces of her heart are laid bare before them, strewn across the damp and molded wood, and they have no idea how to put them back together.  _ “I don’t know if that means anything now, but you weren’t.” _

Again she chuckled, and Eret’s heart soared with the knowledge that they could still bring joy to her, this woman whose face had been lost to them. Silently they memorized how happiness looked on her, they way she wore it like it would slip at any moment. “It does. More than you know.” Niki hugged them again. And this time it was filled with love instead of mourning.

**Author's Note:**

> AU made by @helloivyandavandrawsstuff on tumblr! I fell in love with their fanart here and had to write something for it: https://helloivyandavandrawsstuff.tumblr.com/post/638332421592498176/roleplay-dsmp-so-eret-ghost-au-basic-idea-is
> 
> If you noticed that I never mentioned Pogtopia by name because it would ruin the tone, no you didn't <3 I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I'm pretty sure this is the densest my writing's ever been, for better or for worse. Hope you enjoyed reading it, comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated! Planning to have this fic be around 10k, with some good interactions between Eret, Fundy, and Niki.


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